


Moving the Goalposts

by orphan_account



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Football, Alternate Universe - Soccer, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, apologizing in advance to the entire rest of the world, the characters are american and they're going to call it soccer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-05-31 06:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19420360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Swan Queen soccer AU no one asked for.World Cups, red cards, association politics, and two players who can't stop pushing each other's buttons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's Women's World Cup season and I was struck by the sudden urge to write a story about Emma and Regina as players in the US Women's National Team. But this is a premise that requires a few disclaimers, so:
> 
> 1\. This story is not based on the real USWNT. I know there are fics about the real people on that team, and I want to clarify that this is not one of them. 
> 
> 2\. This story is not meant to comment on any of the real life stories and controversies of the real USWNT. Any direct parallels are accidental, this is purely a work of fiction.
> 
> 3\. I am but a casual fan, and I don't actually know how say, the United States Soccer Federation works. I'm going to try to make sure that this story resembles reality somewhat, but don't expect hyper-realism. 
> 
> 4\. This story is set in 2015, because fanfiction is supposed to be fun, and I don't want to acknowledge the Cheeto's existence. That being said, god bless Megan Rapinoe.
> 
> Ok, hope you enjoy.

Regina needed complete silence before a game. She couldn’t stay in the locker room of course, she was rather certain that her teammates didn't even comprehend the concept of silence, but they knew not to bother her. She would find some remote spot somewhere in the back of the building, and she would let the calm wash over her. Let the prospect of the game, of imminent victory (defeat was never an option) overcome her, and she would be ready.

She needed that, otherwise she would be thrown of her game. And everyone knew it. Except, apparently, the terminally obnoxious new girl.

“Hey, Regina!”

“Miss Swan,” Regina bit out tersely, “what are you doing here?”

The new girl shrugged. “What are you doing here? You always run off before the game.”

Regina let out an exasperated sigh, wondering how one body could contain so much stupidity. “Did you notice that in the two whole games you’ve played with us?”

This only caused Swan’s self-satisfied smirk to grow into a smile. “You do this in the league too. I noticed you standing in a corner last time we played against you guys.”

When we crushed you, like we do every time, Regina thought, but she didn’t say it aloud. It went without saying. Swan was the only good player on that team, and for some reason she refused to leave it despite getting much better offers from better teams. Instead, she approached the much more obvious question. “If you know this is a ritual of mine, Ms. Swan, then why do you think it’s a good idea to disturb me?”

The girl shrugged, never once wiping that idiotic smile off her face. “Figured I would join you. I think I could also do with some quiet before a game.”

Regina scoffed at that. In the short time Regina had known her, Swan never seemed to shut up. She always had something she needed to say, in training, during a game, in the locker room. And everyone had heard her sing loudly and badly in the showers. The idea that this woman, of all people, would want quiet was absolutely absurd.

She said as much to Swan, which seemed to only amuse her. “You’re the one who keeps talking to me.”

“Yes, to tell you to leave my spot.”

“This is your spot? Do you own it?”

It took a great deal of strength from Regina not to pick a fight with the idiot. She supposed the coach would not be pleased with her, and as much as she hated it, Regina knew she couldn’t get on Blanchard's bad side any more then she already had. Not when her starting position was in question.

Instead she simply walked off, hoping to find a new spot.

She found one near the water fountain and took a deep breath, trying to release some of the tension, and return to her pre-game mindset. But she was still fuming.

She hated that fucking Emma Swan, and had since the moment she met her. At first it was on principle: the fact that this girl was selected for the national team after three seasons where her team ended up at the bottom of the league was incredibly frustrating. Sure, the girl was good, either scoring or assisting on the few goals her team had miraculously managed to put in the back of the net. But being the only halfway decent player in a hopeless team with no investors shouldn’t qualify the girl one of the coveted 20 spots, and certainly not the starting position she had landed so effortlessly in the past two games.

It didn’t help that after two whole games that Swan had started in, the commentators were already suggesting that she was the next big star of the team, and the key to the world cup. It was absurd to Regina. The girl had scored one goal in a friendly with South Korea, and somehow that turned her into the next Mia Hamm? Of course it did, she thought bitterly, Swan was a young and pretty white girl, and a striker to boot. Everyone was bound to love her, and that only made Regina hate her more. She had been playing on the team for ten years, had over 200 caps to her name, 55 international goals, and no one had ever spoken about her like they spoke about Emma Swan. Regina was a solid midfielder, dependable, indispensable (at least until the coach had decided otherwise), and, apparently, easy to ignore.

And Regina was usually okay with that. She loved the game, she loved playing, and though she would never admit it aloud, she held a certain fondness for her idiotic teammates. It didn’t bother her if others got the credit, the team knew how important she was, and that was enough. That was, until Swan showed up a month previously, and immediately had the team eating out of the palm of her hand.

It was bad enough that the fans and commentators treated the woman like she was the second coming, but infuriating when the coach and the team did too. Well, it didn’t shock her about Coach Blanchard – she had always been an idiot. And Ruby, their goalkeeper, as well as some of the defenders just liked having another person who was willing to get drunk with them after games. But when Mulan and Marian, those traitors, started talking about how Emma was bringing new life to their team, Regina couldn’t take it anymore.

Swan was infuriatingly childish, idiotic, and unserious. She had done nothing to deserve this adulation, and yet received it at every turn. Regina hated her, everything about her. And now that she had interrupted Regina’s routine, she could think of nothing else, and could not calm down.

“Regina, hey,” the voice that came from behind her was not Swan’s, thankfully. But Regina was already frustrated by the previous interruption.

“What do you want Marian?” she said, not bothering to hide her annoyance as she turned around to face her friend.

Marian did not seem to be affected by Regina’s hostility. “The game’s about to start, Regina, what are you still doing here?”

“What? No it’s not, I gave myself half an hour.”

“Yeah, and it’s been 25 minutes, we need to go.”

The game was about to start and Regina wasn’t ready. She still felt angry and unfocused, and it was all that idiot Swan’s fault for interrupting her. It was like that girl lived to torment her.

She quickly followed Marian back to the locker room, where the team was waiting for her.

“Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Mills,” Belle French, the assistant coach, grumbled when Regina came in. The entire team was staring at her expectantly. Her gaze turned to Emma Swan, sitting on one of the benches, next to Ruby, staring at her with that stupid smirk on her face. Regina met her eyes and glared at her, trying to convey to her how this was all her fault. Swan held her gaze fiercely, and Regina had to force herself to look away.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled to French. “Lost track of time.”

She hated doing this, but since Blanchard was already doubting her, Regina couldn’t afford to get on the assistant coach’s bad side as well.

“Just don’t let it happen again,” Blanchard interjected, her admonishments delivered in her usual patronizing, kindergarten-teacher tone.

Regina nodded mutely.

“Alright, ladies,” the forced enthusiasm in Blanchard’s voice reaching the fever pitch it always did before a game. “Let’s bring it in.”

The game went horribly. They tied 1-1 with Italy, a team they had beaten 4-0 in their previous match-up. The US goal came early, from Swan, but as far as Regina was concerned, the newbie had just happened to be in the right place in the right time. It was Mulan’s play through and through. She had run halfway across the field before the defenders caught up with her, and she passed the ball to Swan, inside the box. A child could have made that goal, but of course Swan would get all the credit. During the celebration, Regina made sure to congratulate Mulan only.

They struggled to maintain their slight lead for the first half of the game. They had overall possession but no goals. And with every shot missed, the team grew more frustrated, as did the fans.

Right at the beginning of the second half, one of the Italians got past Regina, got past Marian behind her, and scored a goal into the top right side of the net. It was a shot so perfect, that not even the best keeper in the world, which Ruby definitely was, could have stopped it. It was Regina’s fault, and she knew it. It came as no surprise when Blanchard subbed her out five minutes later.

And as much as she hated to see her team do badly, Regina couldn’t help but find some grim satisfaction at the fact that the team didn’t do much better without her. Swan had multiple shots, and none of them were on target, and though of course Regina wanted her team to score, the look of frustration on the woman’s face at the end of the game was the only good thing about it.

Any satisfaction Regina could muster disappeared when Blanchard asked to speak with her alone, after the game.

Of course, the woman said it in the locker room, in front of the entire team. One could always leave it to Blanchard to make private affairs public. Regina only had time to share a concerned look with Marian before complying with Blanchard’s request. She followed the older woman out of the locker room, meeting at the same spot where Swan interrupted her pre-game ritual.

Blanchard’s incessant smile when she talked to the players was once again glued on her face, but Regina knew that nothing she was about to say could be good. She had to defend herself before Blanchard went in on her. “Look, I realize I made a mistake today, and I’m sorry, I wasn’t focused. I’ll play better next time.”

“Regina, relax,” Blanchard said sweetly, a tone of voice that she was sure was supposed to be comforting, but made Regina feel even less relaxed. “It was just a friendly, and nobody was playing their best today. You’ll still start next game.”

“I will?” Regina said, not bothering to hide her surprise. Blanchard had been threatening to bench her since training started.

Blanchard sighed. “For now.”

Regina’s heart sank. “For now?”

“Regina, you know we haven’t won a World Cup since ’99?”

Regina looked at Blanchard questioningly, wondering what kind of question _that_ was. “I’ve been on this team for ten years. Of course I know that.”

Blanchard grimaced. “That’s the problem, Regina. That you’ve been here for so long.”

“What?” Regina was flummoxed. She wasn’t the oldest member on the team, she still had a good five years left before she would be forced to retire. For some players, this would definitely be their last World Cup. And she certainly didn’t understand how having experience could be a bad thing.

Blanchard let out a put-upon sigh. “There have been suggestions from the higher ups that if the team we have keeps losing, we should replace them with younger players.”

“Losing?” Regina couldn’t contain her outrage this time. “We made it to the semi-finals at every world cup we’ve ever played at. Last time we made it to the final. And we've won two Olympic gold metals. How is that losing?”

Blanchard put an arm on Regina’s shoulder that Regina supposed was meant to be comforting, and Regina shook it off. Blanchard gave her a look of exaggerated hurt, but Regina couldn’t care less. Not when she was about to be benched for _this_. “If the men did half as well as we did the Federation would buy them all personal private jets.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do, Regina.”

“Of course you do, that’s how you got your job isn’t it?” Regina knew it wasn’t wise to antagonize her coach like this, but she could feel all of her resentments rise to the surface. Losing the previous World Cup after reaching the finals had been devastating enough, made worse by the fact that it had gotten Tamara, their wonderful, whip-smart coach – a former player and a brilliant tactician – unceremoniously fired. It was due to Tamara’s hard work that they had gotten to that final in the first place and the fact she had been replaced with Mary Margaret Blanchard, the daughter of a Federation board member, was absolutely criminal. Despite the obvious nepotism, Regina had to admit that as a coach, Blanchard wasn’t completely without merit, but she was no Tamara. Tamara would have fought the Federation if she thought that was what was best for the team. Blanchard, unsurprisingly, had no problem following the words of those ageing misogynists to the letter. Obedient to any person in a position of power, _just like she always had been_ , Regina thought bitterly.

“Regina, I’ve known you for a long time,” Blanchard said, her tone somehow nostalgic, ridiculous given the actual circumstances of their acquaintance. “And I believe that you can prove the Federation wrong.” She paused, her smile disappearing into a grave look. “But if you don’t impress them in the friendlies we have left before the qualifiers, I’ll have no choice but to drop you from the team.”

Regina had known that this is where this conversation was going, had known it, deep down, for a long time. Blanchard had been pushing her out of the team ever since training for the world cup started. She had thought it just meant she would be benched, but this was so much worse. If she were benched, she at least would still be a part of the team. But dropped? She couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t lose this team. Much as she loved playing for her team in the league, the National Team had been her life since she was 20 years old. It was the first place where she felt safe, where she could prove how good she was without constantly being told she was a disappointment. It was the first time her accomplishments actually meant something. The thought of losing that, not because she could no longer play, but because the Federation didn’t know shit about soccer, it was worse than she could ever imagine. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t, not in front of Mary Margaret Blanchard of all people.

Blanchard’s face was a mask of exaggerated pity. “Regina, you just need to impress the board members,” she said, using the same disgustingly sympathetic tone. “If they decide you’ve improved, we’ll have no problems. And I’ll give you plenty of chances. I’ll start you every game before qualifiers.”

It was then that something occurred to Regina. “Why me?” she choked out.

Blanchard frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean?” But for the first time, Regina heard a note of uncertainty in Blanchard’s voice. There was something she wasn’t telling her.

“I mean,” Regina said, more clearly this time, “Why me? There are older players. If the Federation wants to replace us with younger players, why am I the only one whose job is at stake?”

“You’re not,” Blanchard said, not meeting Regina’s eyes.

Regina scoffed. Blanchard was definitely hiding something. With the exception of the last game, where her focus had been ruined by that idiot Swan, Regina hadn’t been playing any worse than the other players. Far from it. “Then why are you only talking to me?”

“Lots of people’s jobs are on the line, Regina, mine included,” her self-pitying expression left Regina incredibly unimpressed. “But,” Blanchard sighed again, “You’re right that the Federation took particular interest in you.”

“Why would they-“ Regina started to ask, before she saw Mary Margaret’s nervous frown and realization dawned on her. “Oh,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mary Margaret looked away. “I’m sorry, Regina,” sounding genuine for the first time in the entire conversation.

“So, it’s her?” Regina asked, just barely managing to swallow the sob that was rising to the surface.

“The board won’t listen to her if you prove how important you are to this team,” Mary Margaret said, but Regina knew how wrong she was. Her mother had the Board wrapped around her little finger. If she wanted Regina gone before the world cup, Regina would be gone, and no amount of well-played friendlies would do anything about that.

It was happening again, Regina realized. Her mother was going to use Mary Margaret Blanchard to ruin her life _again_ , and just like last time, there was nothing she could do to stop her. She could no longer hold back the sobs escaping from her throat, and when Blanchard reached over to hug her, Regina ran.

The locker room was empty when Regina got there, as she knew it would be. After a game like they just had, no one would want to stick around. Marian might’ve stayed to check up on her, but Regina knew that she had to get back to Roland. And frankly, Regina was relieved. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this. She didn’t think she had the strength to explain why she was crying, why everything in her life was about to go to shit. She just wanted to be alone, and cry for a while, and then she would pick herself up, like she always did.

Regina’s sobs were finally turning into sniffles, when a voice echoed from across the room “What’s wrong?” Emma Swan asked, startling Regina.

She turned to see Emma Swan standing at the doorway. “What are you doing here?” she choked out, trying to wipe her tears inconspicuously.

Emma walked over to the bench where Regina was sitting, “I forgot my bag,” she said, pointing to the bag under the bench. Before sitting down beside Regina. “Are you okay?”

“What business is it of yours?” she asked, her anger once again rising to the surface. The last thing she needed to complete this awful day was Emma Swan’s condescending pity.

“Well,” Swan smiled. “I’m your teammate. And I’m pretty sure teammates are supposed to make sure their teammates are okay. For the good of the game and all that.”

It was then that it hit Regina for the first time, that while she would be kicked off the team in a matter of months, and that Marian’s job, and Mulan’s job, and Jasmine’s job, and the jobs of so many of their best players, were in danger, this girl, this ungrateful buffoon who had come from out of nowhere, was exactly the kind of player that the Federation wanted on the team. Regina was about to lose the most important part of her life, and Emma Swan, with her easy smile, and her easy good looks, and her easy, effortless life, and 20 other perfect blonde barbies would come to replace them all. Suddenly, Emma Swan was no longer an obnoxious nuisance. She represented everything that Regina was about to lose, and when Regina looked at her, she felt an intense loathing. She hated her as much as she had ever hated anyone. And she wanted her to know it. She wanted her to hurt like Regina was hurting.

“You are not my teammate,” she said in a low voice.

“Sure I am,” Swan said cheerily. “I have the jersey to prove it.”

Regina wanted nothing more than to swipe that stupid smirk off the girl’s face. “You are nothing but an incompetent moron, who’s good at pretending to matter.” This wasn’t true, Regina knew. Swan would matter a great deal very soon, but for now, Regina could say whatever she liked. She had refrained herself before, for the good of the team, or so that Blanchard wouldn’t bench her. But she was going to get fired anyway, her mother would see to that. So what did it matter if she finally gave Swan a reality check? “Pretty soon everyone is going to figure out that there’s no substance behind all your bluster, and they’ll finally get rid of you for good.”

Regina’s words had the desired effect. Swan’s smirk had finally been wiped off her face, replaced with anger, and, Regina detected victoriously, the slightest bit of hurt behind her eyes.

The other woman stood up. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded.

Regina stood up to face Swan, moving closer to her, breathing hard. “Contrary to your self-centered beliefs Ms. Swan, not everyone who doesn’t fall over themselves telling you how great you are is in any way deficient.”

Swan looked at her incredulously. “What are you talking about? No one falls over themselves to impress me. They just don’t treat me like shit for no reason. What did I ever do to you?”

She had done everything, she was everything that Regina hated. Regina stepped closer towards the other woman, looking at her straight in the eye. “You have done nothing to deserve being on this team. You are useless, you are pointless, and I will not tolerate you.”

Swan stepped back, and Regina could see that she had hit her where it hurt. The younger woman’s eyes were wide and her mouth open, as if she couldn’t believe that someone had actually told her the truth. Regina felt satisfaction that at least she could finally tell Swan off, and tried to bury the twinge of guilt she felt when she saw the woman’s genuinely hurt expression. Swan deserved this, she told herself. Swan was going to play on this team, Regina’s team, over experienced veterans just because she was more palatable than the older generation. Still, Regina knew she had been too harsh, and she found that she could no longer meet the other woman’s eyes.

“I don’t deserve this?” Swan’s tone was angry and hurt, but Regina could see the woman collect herself. She looked like she was ready for a fight. “I’m not the spoiled rich girl who’s mommy practically owns the entire Federation.”

Any hint of guilt that Regina had felt disappeared entirely at Emma’s words. Her hands curled into fists, her fingernails biting into her palms, and it took all of her willpower not to slap the woman, which she knew would get her fired on the spot. “You have no idea what you’re talking about you ignorant child.”

“You’re only like, five years older than me,” Swan interjected.

“You’re new,” Regina practically growled. “You don’t know anything about me, or this team, and if you ever speak about my mother again, I will end you.”

Swan met Regina’s eyes, her expression hard and bitter. “I’d like to see you try,” she said, before grabbing her bag and walking out of the locker room. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so it looks like the updates will be weekly for now. That might change, but for now it looks like that's the pace.

Emma took a deep breath, and lifted the weight above her head. Beads of sweat slid off her forehead as she exhaled, releasing the weight once again.

Inhale, Lift.

Exhale, release.

Emma had always found weight lifting to be very calming. She couldn't meditate to save her life. She had tried it multiple times, at the suggestion of various coaches and trainers throughout the years, and she had found herself bored and restless, made worse by the fact that the yoga teachers kept reminding her how peaceful she was supposed to be feeling. She had a much easier time reaching that level of peace when she was jogging or lifting weights. Emma couldn't sit around doing nothing, it wasn't in her nature. All she could think about were all the better things she could be doing. But if her body was occupied, pushed to the limit in a mindless exercise, Emma could allow herself to breathe easier.

She had been looking forward to get back to training for this reason. She needed some peace after everything that had happened the night before. And it might have worked too, if her spotter hadn't decided to get all nosy about it.

"So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Ruby asked, as Emma once again exhaled and released the weight, Ruby standing behind her, her hand on the bar, carefully guiding her through the process.

"Nothing's wrong," Emma bit out. She took a deep breath, and once again lifted the bar, her arms shaking a little at the strain. She'd been at it for a while, but she wasn't planning on stopping any time soon.

Ruby raised an eyebrow, which Emma couldn't help but find it a little amusing from her upside down view. "Right," she said, guiding Emma back down again. "You're just anger lifting for no reason."

"I'm a professional athlete," Emma said as she lifted the weights back up again, her amusement quickly transforming into annoyance. Leave it to Ruby to wait until Emma was literally a captive audience before she started an interrogation. "It's called training."

"You played a full 90 last night. You're supposed to be giving your body a rest."

"Lay off, Ruby."

"Come on-"

"I said, lay off," Emma growled.

"Fine," Ruby said, her expression a little hurt. "But whatever it is, you're going to have to talk about it eventually."

Emma didn't respond. She inhaled, once again letting Ruby guide the weight above her head. She knew she would have to apologize to Ruby later, but she was relieved that she had managed to halt that line of interrogation for the moment. She wasn't ready to talk about it, and even if she had been, the last thing she wanted was for Ruby, or for anyone else, to find out about what had happened with Regina. Frankly, she was surprised Ruby didn't already know. Team gossip was inescapable – between the players, the coaches, the equipment crew, the medical staff, and the 4-year-old, all cohabitating in close quarters for months on end, there was really no keeping secrets. That's why Emma hadn't said anything to anyone, and if Ruby didn't know about it already, it must have meant that Regina had done the same. Thank god for small mercies, Emma thought, as she let Ruby guide her down again. It was bad enough that she had to deal with Regina’s inexplicable personal vendetta against her, the last thing she needed was for the veteran player to get the rest of the team to side against her. Emma was sure it would work too. The camaraderie and love between the teammates was obvious from a mile away, and Regina was one of the most loved and respected players. Emma was just the new girl to these people. If Regina told them she was bad news, Emma was sure they would believe her.

She couldn't understand why this woman was determined to make Emma’s time on the team so unpleasant, when Emma had been nothing but friendly and nice. Well, okay, maybe ‘friendly and nice’ wasn’t the best way to describe it. But considering the alternative was falling over herself fangirling and admitting to Regina that Emma had been obsessed with her since she was 15 years old, Emma had decided it was better to try and play it cool. She was sure it mostly came off as awkward, but no amount of awkwardness on Emma’s part had warranted the kind of behavior Regina had exhibited the night before.

Sure, Regina had been a bit hostile towards her since they'd met, and Emma had been disappointed of course. She had been so excited to meet Regina (beyond just the firm handshakes she had shared with her after losing a game to her team in the league, which Emma had been way too excited about), and didn't know what she had done to earn her hostility. But the rest of the team had assured Emma that this was just how Regina rolled, especially with the rookies, and that she would warm up to Emma eventually. But that night in the locker room, Regina had been more than just hostile. She had somehow known exactly how to hurt Emma, exactly which vulnerabilities to exploit. Her words had echoed in Emma’s mind ever since.

_You are not my teammate_

Lift.

_You’re useless._

Release.

_You’re pointless._

Lift.

_Pretty soon, everyone will figure that out, and they’ll get rid of you._

Release.

The only upside, Emma thought bitterly, exhaling once again, is that she would no longer have to disguise the remnants of her embarrassing teenage crush when she was around Regina. After last night, those feelings were gone.

"I think you're done," Ruby remarked when Emma lifted back up again.

"I can keep going," Emma said, her arms once again shaking from the strain.

"Come on, Em," Ruby sighed, "whatever's wrong, it's not worth hurting yourself over.

Emma knew Ruby was right, and she didn't protest when she slowly guided the bar to its place on the stand behind her. Emma released her arms, breathing hard.

Ruby came around from behind the bench to face her. "Feel better?"

Emma sighed. "Not particularly."

Ruby offered Emma an outstretched arm, and Emma took it, getting up slowly. "Want me to spot you?" she asked.

"Oh, you mean because I actually need upper body strength to do my job, and I don't just bench press to show off?"

"Oh come on," Emma said, flexing her muscles. "We both know I'm doing this to get girls."

"I'd have thought leg and thigh muscles would be pretty important in that department," Ruby said wryly.

"Well I like to give them a full body experience," Emma said wriggling her eyebrows.

Ruby laughed and Emma joined her, glad that Ruby had allowed the conversation to turn to light-hearted banter. Ruby was the first friend that Emma had made on the team, and she was glad that her refusal to answer Ruby's question did not appear to be hampering this newfound friendship. After what had happened with Regina, Emma found it reassuring that Ruby, at least, didn't seem to think she was useless. Or if she did, Emma supposed she was very good at hiding it. And maybe Regina was right – maybe Ruby would eventually figure out what a waste of space Emma really was. It wouldn't be the first time.

Emma shook off these thoughts. There was no use dwelling on this sort of thing, and she wasn't going to let Regina get to her. She _wasn't_. Emma had made it to the national team, earning one of only 20 spots on one of the best teams in the world. She had proven her worth, and she wasn't ever going to let anyone, not even Regina Mills, make her feel like she was nothing again.

She had managed to avoid running into Regina until training began in earnest. It hadn't been that hard. Regina's hotel room was a floor above the room she shared with Mulan, and she hadn't shown up to breakfast. When Emma had asked about it, doing her best to sound casual, the other players had confirmed they hadn't seen her. Nobody even knew if she had even gotten back to the hotel after the game, because Regina didn't have a roommate (Marian always got a room for her and Roland, and since there was an even number of players, one person always got their own room. That person was always Regina.), but Marian had seemed pretty concerned. Emma had contemplated telling her that she had found Regina crying after the game. She knew that there was no way that Regina would have done the same for her, but she felt a tug on her conscience nonetheless. Regina had seemed pretty upset before she decided to go all Disney villain on Emma.

Marian had rescued her from making that decision by soon after announcing that she was going to check on Regina, leaving Roland in the care of the rest of the team. The team spent the remainder of breakfast cooing over Roland, the topic of Regina’s mysterious disappearance soon forgotten. Not that Emma could blame her teammates – the kid was adorable.

Regina also wasn't in the gym when she and Ruby had shown up. Emma had been particularly relieved at that. There wasn't much use exercising to release the tension, if the source of her tension happened to be glaring at Emma from the opposite side of the room. Or at least, Emma had assumed that when they saw each other again, Regina would glare at her, or yell at her, or talk shit about her to the team. A small part of her had even hoped that she might apologize. Just _something_ to acknowledge the events of the previous evening. But when Regina entered their temporary training grounds a few minutes after Emma and Ruby had, she didn't even spare Emma a glance.

She ran ahead of Emma during laps, she stayed on the opposite side of the field during the basic exercises, and only interacted with Marian and Jasmine during the water break. Emma had no doubt that Regina was doing this on purpose to annoy her, and despite Emma's best efforts to not care, it was having the desired effect. Regina's blow-up the previous night was an action that required an opposite reaction. Emma had not been able to stop thinking about it. And Regina had started it. She had been a colossal asshole, and she had no right to act as though nothing had happened.

By the time the water break was over, Emma was determined to get a reaction out of Regina if it killed her, and Coach Blanchard presented her with the perfect opportunity.

"We're going to do a quick practice game, and then we're going to work on corners and free kicks," Mary Margaret announced. She then paused to look at her clipboard before turning back to look at the players who had all become alert at their coach’s announcement. Everyone loved practice games and took them way too seriously. Coach Blanchard kept having to remind everybody to take it easier on one another – no one wanted to get injured, or worse, injure another player, during training. But that didn't do much to curb the enthusiasm of 19 of the most competitive people Emma had ever met (not that she was any different). Tackles, fouls, heroic saves, and red cards had all been staples of the practice games that Emma had taken part in since she joined the team, and Ruby had assured her that she had only seen a fraction of the overall insanity practice games had to offer (Ruby then launched into a story of a particularly noteworthy practice game in which she had apparently made a save with her ass – a play that had led to the winning goal).

"Our first team captain today is Mulan Hua," Blanchard said, pausing to give the team time to cheer, which they did – as always – with gusto. Emma cheered right along with them, and clapped Mulan on the back as she walked over to where Mary Margaret was standing. The team captainships were also taken very seriously. Usually, Blanchard and French would divide the teams up beforehand, and would direct their every play meticulously, which had a tendency to suck the fun out of the whole affair. However, occasionally they would nominate captains, who were permitted to choose the players on their teams and make all of the tactical decisions without intervention from the coaching staff. Blanchard and French chose captains in order to examine their tactics and leadership skills, and captains whose teams did well were most likely to be chosen as captains in the future. Mulan, the actual captain of the team, was, of course, a regular staple.

"Our second captain," Blanchard continued after the cheers had died down, "is Emma Swan." she announced, turning to face Emma with a wide, approving smile.

Emma couldn't help but return it with her own goofy grin. This was the first time she had been selected as captain, and she knew it meant that the coaches had faith in her. She was new to the team, and her position was shaky, dependant on her proving herself. Blanchard nominating her as captain was a good sign, and an opportunity to do just that.

Her smile grew even wider at the sound of the team cheering her on. Everyone knew that this was her first time captaining a team, and they weren't exactly known for their restraint when celebrating monumental moments. Jogging towards the pitch, where Mulan, Blanchard, and French were standing, became a herculean task, as almost every player felt the need to go up and congratulate her. It was a little ridiculous, Emma thought, that she was getting more praise for this moment from the entire team, than she had when she had scored her first and second international goals. Emma had known these captainships were important, but it was nerve-wracking to realize just how important they seemed to be.

The last person to congratulate Emma was Ruby who high-fived her. "Let's kick some ass!" she shouted over the din, and Emma felt her nerves die down a little. Ruby trusted her, her coach trusted her, and the team supported her. She could do this.

When Emma finally reached the pitch, and the cheers died down, Mulan shook her hand. "I'm going to crush you," she said calmly – threats were traditional, "but way to go, rookie."

Emma smiled at her roommate. "Thanks," she said. "And you're going down."

This led to another cheer from the team (Ruby had once joked that if the players ever got tired of soccer, they could always try their hand at professional cheerleading). Emma let go of Mulan's hand and turned to face the team. She noticed Regina standing to the far side near Marian, who had enthusiastically congratulated Emma. Regina on the other hand was clapping tepidly, and looking straight at Mulan.

With the thought of the importance of captainship, and the overwhelming support of the team, Emma had, for the first time that day, allowed herself to think about something other than Regina. But when her eyes caught on Regina's tight-lipped frown, and her determined gaze towards Mulan, once again, not even sparing Emma a glance, Emma felt her anger and frustration return at full force.

Regina was still, _still_ , refusing to acknowledge Emma. Her accomplishments on this team, which were clearly significant to the other players, meant nothing to her. And Emma knew that Regina wanted on Mulan's team so that she could help defeat her, and prove that Emma didn't deserve the captainship. Well, Emma wasn't going to let that happen. Regina was going to acknowledge Emma's spot on the team, whether she liked it or not.

Emma was so focused on Regina that it took her a moment to realize that Blanchard had asked her a question. She turned her gaze away from Regina and towards the coach who was looking at her expectantly. "Well?" Blanchard asked.

"Um," Emma mumbled, a little embarrassed. "Could you repeat the question?"

There was a titter of laughter from the team, and Emma felt her face go red in embarrassment. It took all of her strength not to turn to see Regina's reaction to all this. The last thing she needed was to get distracted again.

Blanchard waited for the laughter to die down, before repeating her question. "Heads or tails?"

"Oh um," Emma mumbled. "Heads?"

"It's not a question, Emma," Blanchard said. "Be confident in your decisions. And don't lose focus."

Emma nodded, not meeting the coach's eyes. The game hadn't even started yet, and she had already embarrassed herself. She needed to do better. There was no way she was going to let Regina be right about her.

Blanchard flipped the coin. "It's heads," she announced. "Swan, you choose first."

This prompted another smattering of applause from the team, although far more muted this time. Everyone was ready to get down to business, as was Emma. The coach wanted Emma to show confidence, and Emma was certainly confident in her next decision.

"Who is your first pick, Emma?" Blanchard asked.

Emma turned to look directly at Regina, a smile on her face. "Mills," she said firmly.

Regina's stony expression finally met Emma's. Her eyes, wide with surprise, quickly narrowed. Her rage was apparent, and Emma smiled cheekily in return. She had finally managed to force Regina to acknowledge her existence, and getting a rise out of her was an added bonus.

"All right," Blanchard said. "Regina, get over here." Emma recognized the confusion in her coach's tone, which surprised her. Regina was one of their best players. It was in no way strange for Emma to pick her first. She let her gaze stray away from Regina who was jogging towards her, her expression still stony, towards the rest of the team. They were all looking between Emma and Regina, as though something very strange had happened. Emma's eye caught Ruby's, who looked particularly put off. She mouthed something that Emma didn't catch, but she could tell it was judgmental nonetheless. Emma started to worry. Had she really let Regina distract her into making a colossal mistake? If so, what was it?

The answer to that question became very clear, as Mulan seized the opportunity before Regina had even reached the pitch. "I choose Ruby."

Oh. Oh shit. Emma was an idiot.

Ruby was the greatest goalkeeper in the world. There was no one like her. Elsa was a perfectly fine second goalkeeper, but she wasn't Ruby. In literally every other Captain Game Emma had witnessed, the first choice had always been Ruby. It was common sense. And Emma had let her anger at Regina distract her from making the most obvious tactical decision. The game hadn't even started, and Emma had already fucked everything up. It was completely humiliating, exactly the kind of idiotic mistake that could destroy her in the eyes of the coaches.

As Ruby got up to join Mulan, Regina finally reached the pitch, still glaring at Emma as though she had murdered her dog or something. She positioned herself some feet apart from her, and turned her gaze away from Emma towards the rest of the team, refusing to look at her.

Emma felt herself getting angry once again. No matter how royally Emma had fucked up, she was still, for the moment, Regina’s captain. Couldn't the woman muster even the least bit of sportsmanship and respect? Or at least fake it? She probably felt vindicated that Emma had fucked up, saw it as just more proof of Emma's worthlessness. But Emma was going to prove her wrong if it fucking killed her.

Once the teams were chosen, the team captain had 15 minutes to come up with a game plan, and get their team ready. This, at least, Emma knew how to do. She had been the actual team captain in her league team, and while she may not have ever been a tactical genius, she was good at coming up with simple and effective plays, and leading a team on the field. With Elsa in goal, Emma had nine other players on the field. After choosing Regina, she had tried to think more tactically, in terms of the number of defenders, midfielders, and forwards that she wanted. It was hard, because clearly Mulan had her own plan, and that made planning for a formation far more difficult. She had ended up with three defenders, four midfielders, leaving Emma as the only forward. On the other hand, Mulan’s team had four forwards, and only two midfielders and three defenders, so overall, Emma thought she had actually done pretty well.

Regina, unsurprisingly, seemed to disagree. “So I suppose our fearless leader has decided she wants all the glory for herself,” Regina said once their team had been divided and huddled together to hear Emma’s game plan. It was a comment that was ostensibly framed as a wry aside to Marian, but Emma had no doubt that she had meant for the rest of their team to hear it as well.

“Actually, Mills,” Emma said, before anyone else could get a word in edgewise. “You’ll be playing up top with me.” It was, for what seemed like the first time that day, not an impulsive decision on Emma’s part. Regina was an attacking midfielder, and she was often brought up to play forward in these practice games. And Emma had seen Regina play forward in real matches, back when she followed that sort of thing. Sometimes, the coach wanted to switch up to a more aggressive attacking formation during a game, and in those instances Regina was always the first midfielder to be brought forward. These had always been Emma’s favorite sort of matches, because it meant that Regina had a higher chance of scoring a goal, and back then, Emma had been convinced that there was nothing in the entire universe hotter than Regina scoring a goal. Hell, even knowing that Regina was an evil bitch, Emma was still pretty sure that was true.

So it was a pretty standard decision to put Regina up front, and the other players on the team did not seem particularly phased by it. Regina, on the other hand, seemed to feel as though it was a personal affront to her character. She glared at Emma, who was beginning to wonder if that was just Regina’s only facial expression. “You want me to play forward?” she said in a low voice.

“Yes,” Emma said with a smirk. Finally having the upper hand over Regina was fun. “You’ll play on the right hand of the field and I’ll play on the left. Marian, you’ll be our central defender, I want you to make sure Mulan doesn’t get past you.”

Marian nodded.

“Anna,” Emma continued. “You’ll play right hand full back, Aurora you’ll be on the left-”

“Are we really going to entertain this charade?” Regina interrupted.

“What charade?” Emma asked, not bothering to suppress her anger at being interrupted. She was finally getting into a groove, she had a game plan, and despite her earlier mistakes, the team was actually listening to her. Now everyone was looking between them, their expressions conveying various degrees of discomfort.

“The charade in which you pretend to know what you’re doing,” Regina spat out.

“Regina, what the hell?” Marian said, aghast. The rest of the players were staring at Regina with similar expressions of shock. Emma was probably the only one who wasn’t surprised. Before the previous evening, Regina had previously been snippy and a little bit hostile towards Emma in front of the rest of the team, but she hadn’t made her true feelings public until that moment.

“She’s a rookie. She’s only been here for a month. No one gets to be captain this early, especially not an incompetent moron like her.” Regina looked directly at Emma as she said it, ignoring the rest of the team’s disapproving expressions. Emma was pretty relieved that the others weren’t okay with Regina acting like this. It was obviously unprofessional, but still, Regina had far more clout with these people than Emma did. She supposed their shock at her behavior meant that it was unusual for her. Apparently, Regina saved this sort of thing especially for Emma.

But as shocked as the other players were, Emma was ready for it. She had known this might happen if she chose Regina, and she had no intention of letting the woman walk all over her in front of her teammates, especially when it seemed that her teammates where on Emma’s side.

“Coach Blanchard chose me as captain,” she said, meeting Regina’s gaze, her tone steely. “So you are going to stop interrupting me, stop insulting me, and do what I say.”

Silence followed. Regina glared at Emma, but didn’t say anything more. No admission of defeat, not that Emma had really expected one, but she wasn’t protesting any longer. Emma supposed Regina had just been trying to get a rise out of her again, and when she failed, she didn’t really have any more to say. The rest of the team were once again looking between them expectantly, perhaps waiting for a continuation of this unexpectedly dramatic turn of events. But Emma, at least, had no intention of giving them one.

She cleared her throat. “Ok, so, Aurora you’ll be on the left, and I want you to mark Jasmine.” Aurora nodded mutely, and as far as Emma could tell, the rest of the team seemed willing to ignore what had just occurred, at least for the time being, and to once again focus on the game plan.

Mulan scored against them in the opening minute of the game. It was a signature Mulan move, a fast run, with a couple of short double passes with Jasmine to confuse the defenders. By the time Marian and Aurora had gathered their bearings, Mulan had already taken her shot. It was a long ball from outside of the box, but it was perfectly accurate. Elsa had managed to get her fingertips on it, but couldn’t deflect it.

Ruby would have made that save, Emma knew, and she felt like an idiot all over again. She was sure her entire team thought she was an idiot as well, and probably Blanchard too. Worst of all, Emma caught Regina’s self-satisfied smirk as she walked the ball towards the center line, and Emma felt herself getting worked up all over again. Because really, Regina was right – Emma was a rookie, she didn’t have any idea what she was doing. Why had she been chosen for this position? Did Blanchard just want to watch Emma humiliate herself? Or had she really had faith in Emma? In that case, Emma had just demonstrated why that faith was probably misguided.

_And Regina would be so happy about it._

It was that thought that propelled Emma to keep going. No matter what the coach thought, or what the other players thought, Emma wasn’t going to let Regina feel good about Emma’s failures. That’s why she had chosen Regina for her team, after all. And she was going to make sure that the woman would be the key to Emma’s success, whether she liked it or not. And well, whatever else Emma could say about Regina, there was no doubt in Emma’s mind that the woman would play her best. Even if she wanted Emma to lose, Emma was sure that Regina was not the kind of person who would ever throw a game. Certainly not when her own ego was on the line.

It didn’t take long for Regina to prove Emma right. After Mulan’s early goal, the game stagnated for a while. Mulan and Jasmine had more chances, but the defense had recovered from their early shakiness, and didn’t let much get past them. Emma and Regina had both had their individual chances, although they had each worked primarily with the midfielders, and not with one another. But Mulan’s defense was strong, and Ruby had made an amazing save off of Regina’s one shot towards goal.

It was towards the final minutes of the game (practice games were only 45 minutes long) that an opportunity finally opened up. Marian had successfully challenged Mulan for the ball, inside the box, in a play that could very easily have led to another goal against Emma's team. She quickly passed the ball to Merida, who wasted not time passing it to a wide-open Emma. Emma had seen the opportunity for a break-out attack after Marian’s challenge, and was already at the center of the field, with only one defender behind her, when Merida passed her the ball. Emma had a pretty open run to the box before Ashley, the defender who had been marking Emma, caught up with her.

But when she did catch up, she gave Emma a pretty good fight for the ball, and Emma had to dribble back a little to keep position. She looked up and saw Regina, who had somehow managed to get open just behind her. She didn’t even look in Regina’s direction as she passed the ball back with the back of her foot. She could only hope the ball had reached it’s target as she ran to the side before Ashley could catch up to her. The next thing she knew, Regina had passed the ball back to her. She had read Emma’s play perfectly, and Emma was in the perfect position to take the shot.

She dribbled the ball forwards, and as both Ruby and Ashley came towards her, she shot the ball into the bottom left corner of the net. The ball hit Ruby’s foot, but it didn’t do much to change the ball’s direction, and the next thing Emma knew, her entire team was congratulating Emma on an incredible goal.

During the celebration, Emma looked over to where Regina was standing, and was surprised to see her smiling, laughing, jumping up and down when Marian went over to congratulate her. And Emma knew, at that moment, that seeing that was the best part. And not just because she couldn’t quash that little bit of excitement that came from her 15-year-old self dreaming of scoring a goal with an assist from Regina Mills. But because, whether Regina liked it or not, they had made a good team. And even though Emma suspected that the only reason Regina was this happy was that she didn’t like losing, Regina who had called her worthless, and pointless, and incompetent, who probably still believed these things, was now celebrating Emma’s success. And if that wasn’t the best kind of revenge, Emma didn’t know what was.

They were in the locker room when Coach Blanchard had finally approached her, and at first, Emma had been relieved to see her. She had been anxious to speak to the coach about her first performance as captain, but after the game, Mary Margaret had quickly pivoted to the promised corner kick drills. She hadn’t even given the teams time to huddle and review their performance. So most of the congratulations and reflections had to wait until after practice. Emma suspected that was the point.

Once they had reached the locker room, Mulan had shaken Emma’s hand and congratulated her on a good game. “Very well played,” she paused for a moment, smiling slyly, before adding, “for a rookie.” 

“Yeah, well,” Emma said. “You did pretty well for an older player.”

Mulan chuckled. “Watch it,” she said. “Or I might not go so easy on you next time.”

Emma had rolled her eyes, although she couldn’t quite contain the grin on her face. Getting praise from the team captain was almost as good as getting praise from the coach. And she hadn’t gotten any feedback from Blanchard yet.

Ruby’s congratulations were simultaneously enthusiastic and bitter, “I mean, as a friend, I’m a happy for you, but as a keeper, I am thoroughly disgusted.” There was no mention of Emma not picking Ruby first, although she had little doubt it would come up eventually. For now, Ruby was acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

But when Regina had pushed past them, not sparing Emma a glance, Ruby gave Emma a questioning look. By now, Emma had no doubt that word of Regina’s outburst before the game had spread to the rest of the team, and probably the staff as well, and she was not happy about it. She knew there would be consequences, not least of which having to explain to Ruby what was going on. She knew that there was no way she was getting out of that one.

But before Ruby could ask her about it, she was rescued by Blanchard entering the locker room, and calling out Emma’s name.

Emma turned to face Mary Margaret, who was looking harried after a long practice, as Emma was sure they all did, but she was smiling at her widely. Emma felt a burst of pride at that. Blanchard had trusted Emma with the leadership position, and despite her mistakes, Emma had managed to hold her own against a team led by the actual team captain. She was proud of herself, and if Blanchard’s smile was anything to go by, her coach was proud of her too.

“Swan,” Blanchard called again. “Could you and Mills please come with me for a moment? I’d like to speak with you two alone.”

Emma’s feelings of pride quickly turned to confusion. Why was Regina coming? What did she have to do with any of this? Her gaze turned to the woman in question, who had extricated herself from the pack at Blanchard’s request, and any remaining positive feelings on Emma’s part evaporated at the sight of her.

Regina was glaring at both of them. Any whiff of happiness resulting from that goal had disappeared entirely once it had become clear that the team had considered Emma’s efforts successful. Emma hadn’t seen much of Regina during the corner drills, as the team had been divided in two for them, and Regina had been on the other side of the field. But what she had seen did nothing to indicate that their successful teamwork signified any sort of shift in their relationship. Regina still looked at Emma like she was dirt on the bottom of her cleats, and Emma did her best to make sure Regina knew that the feeling was mutual. She was beginning to think it would be like this for the rest of her time on the team; Regina would hate Emma, and Emma would hate her right back. But on the up side, Emma thought, Regina could no longer accuse Emma of being useless or incompetent. At least not as far as the rest of the team was concerned, and hopefully not as far as Blanchard was concerned either.

But Emma was no longer so sure of that last bit. If Blanchard was really only there to congratulate Emma on a job well done, she would not have asked Regina to come with them. Sure, Regina had assisted on the goal, but Emma had been team captain, and it was her skills that had really been under review. Regina, conversely, was a veteran player, undeniably one of the best on the team. It wasn’t like she had anything to prove. So if Mary Margaret wanted to talk to them both, it must have to do with something else. And if Ruby had already heard about her and Regina’s fight, there was a good chance that Blanchard had heard about it too. Perhaps she just wanted to chastise them both for their lack of professionalism, in which case, Emma was in serious shit. She was _so_ new, and Regina had been on the team for ten years. In a situation like this, Emma was sure she would be the first to be blamed, regardless of whose fault it was.

She followed Blanchard out of the locker room, her heart heavy in her chest. She really was not in the mood to get yelled at by her new coach. Not that she had ever really heard Mary Margaret yell - she had been the nicest coach Emma had ever had, which had surprised her considering the level they were playing at - but Emma supposed there was a first time for everything. She did her best not to look at Regina who was following behind her. She really didn’t need to see that asshole getting a kick out of all of this.

They followed Mary Margaret out of the locker room and back towards the field, probably so that she could chastise them without anybody hearing, Emma thought morosely. Her heart sank even lower when she saw that Belle French was waiting for them, clipboard in hand. While Mary Margaret didn’t seem like the angry type, French, as bookish and quiet as she seemed, was certainly capable of it.

“What’s this about?” Regina asked shortly when Mary Margaret finally reached the spot near the goal where French was standing. The woman turned to look at them, her expression unreadable.

Mary Margaret was still smiling, but really, when wasn’t the woman smiling? “Well, first of all, we just wanted to congratulate both of you on a great game.”

“We tied,” Regina said through gritted teeth.

“Yes, and it was a very good equalizer,” Blanchard said, her tone so overly enthusiastic that it sounded completely disingenuous to Emma. “Well played, both of you.”

Emma nodded mutely. Was this it? Were they really just there to get congratulated about a measly goal scored during practice? There hadn’t been anywhere near as much ceremony from Blanchard after Emma had scored her first international goal against South Korea.

“However, we do have something more we wanted to discuss,” French said, and Emma braced herself for what was coming next.

But no amount of bracing herself prepared Emma for what Blanchard had to say. “We want you two to start having private practice sessions with Belle here.”

“What?” Regina exclaimed, echoing Emma’s sentiments exactly. Why on earth would they need private sessions? Was this some sort of punishment for not getting along?

Mary Margaret must have noticed Emma’s expression, because she turned to face her. “You know, Emma, I was really concerned when you chose Regina first, it really seemed like you were making a big mistake,” her smile grew impossibly wider. “But when I saw you two play together tonight, it became absolutely clear why you did it.” Emma very much doubted that Blanchard had any idea why she had chosen Regina to her team, but she much preferred for her to think it was somehow a tactical move, as opposed to the petty decision that it really was. “You two have excellent chemistry on the field, and you must have known that, Emma. What I saw today was the kind of teamwork that wins world cups.”

Emma’s jaw dropped open. She had no idea how to process any of what Blanchard had just told her. For one thing, the mention of the world cup was certainly momentous, as Emma had no guarantee that she would even be on the roster for the next world cup. She was still new, and for all she knew, Mary Margaret was just testing her out, or using her for training. She was sure Regina would be on the roster, but for Emma, even a hint like this was absolutely huge.

But the idea that she and Regina had good chemistry, well, 15-year-old Emma imagined hearing those words thousands of times, in various different contexts. But adult Emma, who knew that Regina was an asshole who did nothing but glare at Emma and insult her, and had made Emma feel like nothing in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time – well, needless to say, adult Emma was not exactly thrilled about whatever it is that her coaches had planned for them. She had no doubt Regina would make this situation as hellish as she possibly could.

She was already starting to. “Are you joking?” Regina said incredulously. “We score one goal together in practice and suddenly we have chemistry? What about all the goals I’ve scored with Mulan, or Jasmine, or anyone else who isn’t this inexperienced new girl?”

“Mills,” Belle interjected sharply. “We saw something out there today, and we want to capitalize on it. It isn’t your place to question that.”

Regina opened her mouth to argue again, But Mary Margaret beat her to it. “Regina,” she said quietly, sending her a meaningful look that seemed to catch Regina’s attention. Emma could tell that there was something being communicated between them, but she had no idea what. “I think this might be your chance,” Blanchard continued softly.

Regina’s scornful expression turned into full-blown fury, the kind that Emma had only seen from her once, on the previous night. But this time it wasn’t directed at Emma. “This is your bright idea?” she said, her tone was low but threatening. “ _This_? Are you completely insane?”

Emma had no idea how Regina could just get away with talking to her coach like that. This level of defiance might have gotten anyone else fired, but apparently Regina, with her money and her powerful connections, could do whatever she liked. Emma couldn’t help but feel her resentment growing at that. She wondered how she had ever admired this woman who acted like she could do whatever she wanted without consequence. Especially as this was all because Regina was so childish that she couldn’t even bring herself to work with Emma when the coaches were directly ordering her to do so. And if Regina got her way from all this, then she could destroy Emma’s chance of going to the world cup.

To her relief, Mary Margaret stood her ground. “Yes Regina, it is. And I think it might work.” Emma looked over to Belle, who seemed just as confused as she was. Apparently, only Regina and Blanchard understood whatever conversation they were having, but it was completely beyond Emma. Not that she cared much about Regina’s personal dramas with the coach (Ruby had informed her that there was some kind of scandalous backstory there, but Emma was long past giving a shit). She just wished that whatever they were talking about, it didn’t also put Emma’s fate on the line.

“It won’t,” Regina growled. “You’re deluding yourself.”

“That’s for me to decide,” was Blanchard’s response. “Starting tomorrow, You and Emma will meet here two hours before practice, on Mondays Wednesdays and Fridays, and work with Belle. And I won’t hear any more arguments about it. Is that understood?”

Emma had never seen Blanchard so fierce. She had kind of thought Blanchard was a bit of a soft coach, especially for a national team. Nice and friendly was all well and good, but she wasn’t sure it was the kind of attitude that won championships. But seeing her hold her own against a furious Regina was making Emma reevaluate her initial opinion of her. Maybe the woman was stronger than Emma had realized.

Regina conversely, to Emma’s satisfaction, seemed to realize that she had no way to respond to this. Though she was still shaking with rage, she didn’t say anything more, she simply turned around, making sure to give Emma one last angry glare, before walking off the field.

Emma looked at her coaches uncertainly, having no idea what this could possibly mean for her future, or for these proposed private sessions.

“Okay, Emma,” Mary Margaret’s smile returned to her face immediately as she turned back to face her, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. “Congratulations on the game. Belle will meet you here tomorrow morning. Don’t be late!”

Emma had never felt so confused in her entire life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I'm a little late, but in my defense I got a little distracted by the actual USWNT winning the actual World Cup, and being generally awesome. (My condolences to supporters of other teams, all of whom were just as awesome. The entire tournament was fun and wonderfully gay, and I miss it already.)
> 
> Hopefully, there will be less delays in the future, but I make no promises.

Regina couldn't remember a time when soccer wasn't her entire life – for better or worse. She hadn't always called it soccer – back when things weren't so complicated, when it was just her and her pápi playing in the backyard, it was fútbol. There were pictures of Regina that her father had kept, only three years old, dribbling a soccer ball and wearing an oversized Maradona jersey. Regina only remembered flashes of that time – the smile on Pápi's face the first time she dribbled the ball, him screaming at the TV during the 1990 world cup, and Regina, not really sure what was going on, remembered vividly how she screamed right along with him.

But the best memory by far, and easily the most vivid, was when her pápi flew her over to China to watch the first Women's World Cup final. It wasn't broadcast on American television, or at all on international television. There weren't many people outside of China who knew it was happening. But with her family's connections to the Federation, her father had landed them front row seats.

The stadium had been completely packed with people, more people than a 5-year-old Regina had seen in one place in her entire life. The match was between USA and Norway, and even though the Chinese team had been knocked out of the tournament in the quarter finals, everyone in the Chinese audience seemed overjoyed to be there. They cheered when the teams walked on the field, although nobody cheered quite as loudly as her pápi.

Regina however, had been skeptical. She'd never heard of any of the women playing on either team, and according to Pápi, you couldn't even buy their jerseys. And since all of the best players had jerseys you could buy, Regina didn't really understand what all the fuss was about.

But when Pelé walked out on the field, Regina had screamed so loudly that she was sure the King himself had heard her. And when he came over and shook each player's hand, Regina's skepticism disappeared. After all, if Pelé thought they were good, then they had to be.

Regina had never enjoyed watching a soccer match more than she had enjoyed watching that one. She had screamed when Michelle Akers had scored the first goal, and when Norway equalized, she had been thoroughly crushed. In the last moments of the game, when Akers ran towards the goal, beat the defenders, beat the keeper, and dribbled the ball all the way into the net – she had felt pure elation. The entire crowd was on their feet, and her father had lifted her onto his shoulders so that she could see. When the ball finally made it into the net her father had jumped up and down with Regina in his arms and cheered and yelled and screamed, along with the rest of the giant, roaring stadium.

After the game had ended, in the cab on the way back to the hotel, Pápi had looked at Regina, his expression suddenly serious, and said. "Do you know why I wanted you to see that game, Regina?" He spoke English with an accent he had never quite gotten rid of, though not for lack of trying.

Regina hadn't really known what to make of that question. "Because it was fun?"

Her father had chuckled at that. "Yes, it was very fun," he had said. "But that's not why I took you here."

This had only confused Regina further. "Did you hope it wasn't gonna be fun?"

Her father let out a full blown laugh, and Regina laughed with him, trying to pretend she knew what was so funny.

When her pápi had finally contained his laughter, he said. "Of course I wanted you to have fun, mi amor," when her father was excited those little bits of Spanish always seemed to slip by his notice. As she'd grown older, and the Spanish became less and less frequent, Regina had felt as though something inside of him had died a little. Like her father, the man who flew his daughter all the way to China, just so she could see women playing fútbol, wasn't fully there anymore. But the way Regina remembered Pápi at that moment – he was fully animated, looking at Regina as though he was about to relay the most important message he would ever impart on to her. "And I'm so glad you had fun," he continued. "But today was about more than fun, Regina. It was about seeing history. It was about seeing the future. It was about seeing that you can do anything, no matter who you are." He took a deep breath and met her eyes. "Do you understand?"

Regina hadn't really understood, not until much, much later, but she had nodded anyway, just so that she could see her father beam at her, as though she was the most important person in the world.

Later, during Regina's absolute worst days, when soccer ("Soccer, my dear," Cora had insisted. "It's called soccer. People don't understand you when you call it football.") was something she had to do, had to be the best at, and if she weren't there would be consequences; on those days Regina had held on to that memory for dear life. Because if she could only remind herself why she had wanted to play in the first place, why the game meant so much to her, maybe it made everything else all worth it.

When Regina got back to the hotel room, the first thing she did was pull up the file of the 1991 game. Acquiring the footage of the full game had been extremely difficult, because it hadn't aired outside of China. There were a few short clips of it on YouTube, but Regina had had to use all of her connections to actually get a file of the full game.

Watching it as an adult, Regina could view it more critically: she recognized that the women's game was only at its very early stages at the time, and that the quality of play reflected the sport's infancy; she also found the both teams' blinding whiteness rather distracting; and of course, knowing that all of the USA players pretty much played for free, stayed in tiny motel rooms and were given bad, sometimes rotten food – knowing that when the winning team returned to their country as world champions, only their friends and families had greeted them at the airport – it certainly put something of a damper on the glory of the game.

But even so, after all those years, the blurry images of Michelle Akers in her prime and a 19-year-old Mia Hamm winning their first World Cup seemed to have a calming effect on Regina.

And at the moment, Regina could certainly do with a calming effect. Not even the following hours of training with the team had managed to quell Regina’s frustration after her first training session with that imbecile, Emma Swan. The woman was absolutely insufferable, and she didn't get better after prolonged exposure. Regina had, at best, only a few more months with the team before her mother finally pushed her out. And now she would have to spend those last precious moments, not with the teammates she had been playing with for ten years, but with an overgrown, spoiled child who had everything she wanted handed to her on a silver platter.

All Regina wanted to protect this space that meant more to her than words could describe, and Emma Swan and her ilk were about to tear it asunder, and leave Regina and Marian and Mulan and the rest of them in the dust. She was just so angry.

And, as it turned out, even the game that meant so much to her couldn't distract her from her anger. She had the plays memorized, she knew exactly what was going to happen, and where and when it would. But usually she could still focus, still let those blurry images remind her how it had felt to be carefree, and love a game, and love her father, before all of those things became far more complicated. But that woman’s face, her stupid smirk, and her dumb, self-satisfied grin whenever she successfully completed a play - she couldn’t seem to get her out her mind.

She just wanted to do something, anything, about this whole mess. But against Cora, Regina didn’t know what she what could possibly do. And there was nothing she hated more than feeling utterly, completely helpless.

Just as she was about to give up and turn off the game, Regina heard a knock on her hotel room door. "Regina, it’s me," the sound of Marian's voice came muffled through the door, not that she really needed to clarify who it was. Regina was fond of all of her teammates (well, almost all of them), and much as they teased one another, she knew the feeling was mutual. But even so, Marian was the only person Regina ever spent substantive time with outside of practice.

“It’s open,” Regina called back, quickly closing her laptop. She didn't need Marian to know that she was indulging in a coping mechanism. That was bound to bring up questions that Regina was not prepared to answer.

Marian walked in, taking in Regina’s somewhat ruffled appearance. She had taken a quick shower in the locker room after practice, and hadn't managed to bring herself to change out of the clean sweats she had thrown on afterwards. While this was perhaps the norm for some of the other players, Regina was one of the few who made it a point to only wear sweats when necessary. She knew Marian would recognize the state Regina was in as her version of disheveled. “So, I’m guessing the private training session with Emma didn’t go well?”

“Why do you say that?” Regina sighed, knowing full well that she had spent the entirety of the full-team training session snapping at everyone and generally being an asshole to people who didn’t deserve it. Including Marian.

Marian simply raised an eyebrow in response, before joining Regina on the bed. “What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean what’s going on?” Regina said, trying to appear as nonchalant as she possibly could.

She hadn’t told anyone about what Mary Margaret had told her, and she had no intention to do so. She felt pretty bad about that, because according to Blanchard, her job wasn’t the only one on the line. But she knew that her position was far more precarious. As far as she could tell, her teammates’ place in the World Cup was not in question, and if they could just win the tournament, the danger of a complete re-haul of the team would be null and void. Regina suspected that telling her teammates that their international careers rested entirely on their ability to win one tournament wouldn’t be a particularly helpful thing to do. The pressure to win the World Cup was overwhelming enough, especially since they had lost in the finals last time. Regina had no intention of adding any more.

As for her own predicament, Regina had tried to justify her secrecy to herself through a multitude of possible motivations: if she told the team, she would possibly be forced to explain the entire situation, which she had already decided against; also, some of the players might decide to do something stupid about it, and Regina really didn’t want anyone to lose a battle to Cora Mills for her sake; and frankly, what good would it do? Regina shouldn’t spend her last moments on the team trying to think of futile ways to stop her mother. She should just try to savor everything she loved about being there.

But Regina knew, deep down, that none of those motives held any real weight. The honest, pathetic truth of why she hadn’t told anyone, was that a part of Regina believed that the longer she didn’t say it aloud, the longer it remained untrue. The moment Regina told someone, it would become real, she really would have to leave, she wouldn’t be able to go to the World Cup, or even participate in the Qualifiers. Her entire life, her entire purpose for ten years, would be gone. And Regina just wanted to live, for as long as possible, in a world where that wasn’t the case.

She could just imagine what her mother would say about _that_.

“I mean, Regina, you’re kind of being insane right now,” Marian said. “What do you have against Emma Swan anyway?”

Regina scoffed. Now this was a subject she could talk about at length. “Are you kidding? She is a barely competent rookie, and I’m expected to bow down to her like the rest of you just because she’s a pretty white girl who got lucky? No thank you.”

“So you think she’s pretty?” Marian said, her tone amused.

Regina didn’t dignify that with a response. Of course Emma Swan was pretty. Beautiful, even. Her perfect blonde curls, her toned body, the way her face lit up when she smiled genuinely, instead of that stupid, infuriating smirk of hers. When Regina had first seen her during the game against her club team, the first thing she had noticed about the other woman was how beautiful she was. And of course the audience and the commentators noticed it too. That was probably the reason they loved her so much - god forbid they focus on a female athlete’s ability, rather than her looks.

“I’m just saying,” Regina turned to Marian. “I understand why the commentators like her so much. But why does the team keep treating her like she’s some kind of savior?”

Marian raised another perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “We don’t, Regina,” Marian said. “We just treat her like a good new player. And I thought you were just doing your usual routine, but this is kind of ridiculous.”

“What usual routine?”

“You know,” Marian said. “That thing you do, where you’re always super weird about the new kids because you don’t know how to handle change, but then you get over yourself? You did this with Mulan and Ruby.”

“I did not!” Regina insisted, outraged. “I just didn’t treat them with kid gloves, that’s all. If you want to be on the best team in the world, you should be able to handle some tough love.”

“So that’s what you’re doing with Emma?” Marian’s tone had become serious, all traces of humor completely gone. “Calling her incompetent in front of half the team, is ‘tough love’?”

Regina couldn’t meet Marian’s eyes at that. Even she knew that had been one step too far, but she had just been so angry. She was still so angry. This woman who represented everything she was about to lose, who had presumed to know anything about Regina’s relationship with her mother, had gotten to captain a team after a month of being on the roster. It was unfair and ridiculous, and she was the only one who saw it. She just could not manage to keep quiet any longer.

Marian placed a hand on Regina’s. “I’m just trying to understand, Regina. This isn’t like you.” Her tone was soft, and loving, and managed to convey, in the way that Marian always did when things got serious, that she was there for her.

Regina met her eyes again. She couldn’t tell Marian all of the reasons Swan made her so angry, but if she could only get her to understand a little bit, she would at least feel as though she had somebody on her side. “She’s gotten everything so easily,” she said, her tone quiet but emotional, almost pleading. “She’s barely played, and she’s on top of the world, without ever having had to work for it.”

Marian tilted her head to the side. “You don’t really know a lot about her, do you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Regina asked, suddenly defensive once again. She couldn’t explain to Marian that Swan, and girls like her, was going to take over their team because of the Federation’s stupidity. That all of her teammate’s years of work would soon be erased. But even so, Swan’s unmistakable privilege should be completely obvious to anyone, certainly Marian.

Her friend shrugged. “Nothing,” she said, her tone sounding a little dubious to Regina. “It’s just a hard road to even get to the National Team. You don’t get to where she’s gotten without having to work for it.”

Regina looked at Marian, knowing full well everything her friend had been forced to go through to get to where she was, and she couldn’t fathom comparing that to anything Emma Swan might have had to do. “Yes well,” Regina said bitterly. “Some have to work harder than others.”

Marian sighed again. “Okay, yeah, maybe she doesn’t face the same problems you and I do. But if that’s your issue, why don’t you take it out on any of the other white girls on the team?” Marian paused at that, her tone now almost as bitter as Regina’s. “You certainly have plenty to choose from.”

Regina really didn’t have a response to that question, and so she turned away from Marian. She stared at the blank television screen, in her perfectly empty and clean hotel room, and wished that Marian would just let it go.

But of course, there was no such luck. “Look, Regina, I’ve known you for a long time. And whatever this is, whatever you’re not telling me, I know that it’s about more than Emma Swan.”

Regina continued to stare directly at the television screen, knowing that if she met Marian's eyes, she might not be able to hold it in any longer.

“And I’m not going to try to force you to tell me,” Marian continued softly. “Because I know your stubborn ass is just going to brush me off if I do.”

Regina could feel the tears well up in her eyes. She was so lucky to have Marian in her life. She had been the first person to truly welcome Regina to the team when she joined. She had embraced her, and helped her, and encouraged her in a way that no one had in a long time, and Regina had only tried her best to return the favor. And there she was again, knowing exactly what to say to Regina, knowing exactly how to reach the heart of the matter.

“There’s nothing-” Regina barely managed to choke out, before Marian interjected.

“Whatever it is, Regina, I know that yelling at everyone during practice, or holding a grudge against Emma Swan, is not going to help.”

“Nothing’s going to help,” Regina said. She was actually crying now.

Marian got up, and gave Regina a fierce hug, before separating in order to meet Regina’s eyes. “You don’t believe that,” her voice was barely a whisper. “You’re Regina fucking Mills, and you never give up. So don’t start now.”

“I-” Regina couldn’t explain this to Marian. If Marian knew what she was up against, but of course she didn’t, and Regina planned to keep it that way. “I don’t-”

Marian smiled at her. “You’re going to find a solution,” she said firmly. She let go of Regina and stood up straight. “You’re going to fight back." She paused for a moment. "And if you do want to talk, you know I’m always here for you.”

Regina nodded shortly, and Marian smiled at her one final time, before turning to walk out the door.

It was Friday morning on Regina’s third training session with Emma Swan. She had gotten there early, already sweating from the gym. This was another terrible aspect of the new arrangement – the additional hours of training came in the place of her usual work-out hours, which meant having to wake up earlier in order to keep in shape. And it wasn’t as if call times allowed for a lot of sleeping in regardless, unless it was a day following a game.

Swan had apparently come to the same conclusion, as Regina had seen her at the gym in the two previous mornings before their private training sessions. Fortunately for Regina, the gym was large enough that they could be on opposite sides of it and not interact with one another, but she dreaded the team’s next move, that would occur in a week’s time. The team had trained in the facilities in Maine before, so Regina knew that it was a much smaller location than their current one. And as Swan had demonstrated in their previous sessions, she had this unpleasant habit of being talkative with anyone she was in close quarters with, regardless of how that person felt about her. Regina didn’t think she could take the woman’s obnoxious yammering during her exercises, in addition to those godforsaken sessions.

French was there waiting for her as she jogged on to the empty field, but she was surprised to find Blanchard standing beside the assistant coach. She struggled to hold in an audible groan at the sight. The one upside of this arrangement was that Belle French was running the mini-sessions, which at least meant that Regina didn’t need to experience any more prolonged exposure to Mary Margaret Blanchard than she already did. If Blanchard was just going to show up every other practice, Regina wondered if this was all just an elaborate ploy to torment her.

“Hello, Regina,” Blanchard said, her trademark faux cheeriness at full volume. “I was just telling Belle about the guests that will be joining you today.”

She looked between Blanchard and French. Blanchard’s smile was wide and fake as ever, whereas Belle’s lips were curled into a tight frown. This told Regina everything she needed to know – whatever this was, it couldn’t possibly be good.

“Guests?” she said skeptically.

Blanchard’s nodded enthusiastically. “Some representatives of the Federation have decided to join the team on our way to Maine. They’d like to track our progress towards the Qualifiers.”

Regina felt her heart sink. If the Federation was coming, then her time on the team was coming to a finish sooner than she had realized. Had her mother sent them? If so, Regina would probably be out within the week. And if not, Regina thought, then the threats to remove the other veteran players could be more urgent than Blanchard had made them sound. In any case, it was a terrible, terrible sign.

“I see,” Regina said, failing to stop her voice from wobbling.

Blanchard’s smile grew impossibly wider, but her eyes betrayed fear. “Yes, well, I suggested they come see one of these training sessions,” Blanchard squeaked out. “So that they can see what we’re working on.”

Oh. So Blanchard was still trying to enact that plan of hers. Having thought it over, Regina understood it to an extent – Emma Swan was a rising star, and the Federation was probably betting a lot of the future on her, and equally inexperienced girls that looked like her. So Blanchard’s attempt to somehow tie Regina to Emma, and make it seem as though they were a package deal, was admittedly a clever one. She had no idea why Blanchard was trying so hard to keep Regina on the team – perhaps guilt – but in any case, Regina highly doubted it would work. This was Cora Mills after all. Once she decided something, there was no changing her mind. Regina had learned that the hard way many times throughout her childhood. And considering one of those times had heavily involved one overly trusting Mary Margaret Blanchard, the older woman should really know better. But Regina supposed you could always count on Blanchard to be an idiot about that sort of thing.

“Oh, there they are,” said Blanchard, waving over the two men who had just entered the pitch.

Regina recognized the older one immediately, and her fear was quickly replaced with confusion. Gold had visited her mother’s house on occasion, and Regina had always found him vaguely unsettling, in a way she could never quite put her finger on. But she hadn’t seen him since she was a teenager, and the only thing she really knew about him was that he and her mother were bitter enemies, and that he was one of the few people with enough power in the Federation to overrule her. And while Regina highly doubted that he would use that power to help her personally, there was no way Gold could be a part of her mother’s delegation. Perhaps he even opposed her, though probably not enough to stick his neck out for Regina. But then again, if Regina spoke to him, maybe there was something that could be done. She could at least try to gain a better understanding of what was going on. She could feel herself becoming excited, despite futile reminders to herself that excitement had a way of leading to disappointment.

It took the men a while to reach the pitch, as they were both wearing ridiculously out of place suits and expensive shoes, which required them to take a long detour around the muddy field. As they slowly made their way forward, it became apparent to Regina that she did not recognize the man walking next to Gold, a lean, brown-haired man who looked too young to have been part of the Federation when Regina was a child. Though they were walking together, they were two feet apart, and didn't spare each other a glance.

When the two men finally reached the pitch, they both extended casual greetings towards the coaches, but both seem to more interested in Regina.

Gold approached her first. “Hello, Dearie,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”

Regina really didn’t know what to do about any of this. She knew that Gold only represented himself, that she would have to tread with caution if she wanted to acheive anything, that his intentions were not clear, and that his help was by no means guaranteed. But until that moment, she hadn’t even considered why her mother wanted her off the team – Cora had made her views on Regina continuing her career into her 30's quite clear – but if Gold was there, then perhaps there was something else going on.

Regina cleared her throat, and shook Gold’s hand. “Hello,” she said, making sure her face didn’t betray a single emotion, even though her heart was beating faster, and she could feel herself humming with excitement. For the first time in days, she felt the slightest spark of hope. There might be a real, genuine chance to save her place on the team from her mother’s plotting. “It’s good to see you, Mr. Gold.”

The spark of hope, turned quickly into dread when the younger man introduced himself. “Hello,” he said, reaching out to shake Regina’s hand. “We haven’t met before, I’m Killian Jones, a colleague of Mr. Gold’s here,” Regina didn’t miss the disgust in the man’s voice as he gestured to Gold, nor Gold’s equally displeased expression. The man, Jones, Regina supposed, turned back to face her, his lips curled into a smirk revealing no humor. “Your mother sends her regards.”

Regina felt all of her anxieties return at full force. Whatever Gold’s intentions were, her mother clearly had her own plans. Cora wanted to make her presence known to Regina – that much was obvious. And if she had sent a representative of her own, then maybe Regina’s situation was hopeless regardless of whatever Gold was planning.

She heard Marian’s voice in her head – _you don’t give up, Regina_ – and tried to hold on to the last sliver of hope that remained. These were just her mother’s mind games, she told herself. She was trying to distract from the obvious opportunity that Gold represented by sending a scare tactic, and Regina was not going to let it work on her. She would pursue Gold as a potential ally, and would figure out what was going on. If there was a chance, any chance to remain a part of the team, Regina would exhaust it.

She tried to shake off her fear, and smiled politely at the man. “Send my regards to her as well,” she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.

“Right,” Belle French spoke for the first time since Regina had entered the pitch. “I believe we have some training to do.”

“Yes,” Jones said, turning to look towards the coaches. “I’ve heard so much about this Emma Swan. Will she make an appearance soon?”

Regina felt her blood boil at that. From any other person, the comment might have been completely harmless, but she had no doubt that this Jones person had been given a detailed script to follow. An interest in Swan confirmed that her mother was interested in her, or at least that she was interested in throwing the woman in Regina’s face.

She was relieved when Belle French interjected again. “It’s still early,” she said. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” She turned to face Regina. “In the meantime, why don’t you start warming up.”

Regina looked back at Jones, who had turned away from Regina in the name of making stilted small talk with Blanchard. She then looked back at Gold. He was staring back at her, his expression unreadable.

"Well?" French demanded. "Get on with it."

Regina finally tore her gaze away from the man, and all that he represented, and moved to comply with French’s order.

Swan finally showed up a few minutes later, not long after Blanchard had excused herself, and began warming up with Regina. Gold and Jones had positioned themselves on the first of the dirty bleachers, and Regina couldn’t help but enjoy the thought of these Federation heads getting their suits dirty, because they hadn’t bothered to hire people to clean their training facilities. (She knew for a fact that the facilities the men trained in were always clean and well kept.)

Swan hadn’t seemed all too concerned with the presence of the men during the first half of the session, to the point where Regina wondered if she had noticed them at all. Of course the woman would be completely unobservant along with everything else.

But as it turned out, Swan had noticed them, she just apparently hadn’t seen fit to mention it until over an hour of their session had come and gone. They were on a break after practicing various drills that French would later ask them to implement during the session with the rest of the team. These drills had seemed pretty unremarkable to Regina in the first session, and she didn’t understand why they would require these private hours. But when they trained with the rest of the team, even Regina was forced to admit that they worked rather well. She and Emma were starting to become very good at bypassing defenders as a unit, using many of the tricks Belle had insisted they practice over and over again.

Not that Regina was at all convinced that this had anything to do with some sort of chemistry between her and Swan. After all, if any two players were forced to put that much effort at practicing the same double pass trick over and over again, of course they would get good at it. If anything, the question became why Blanchard hadn’t thought to do this kind of thing sooner, with any player who wasn’t Emma Swan.

The woman, among her many unpleasant tendencies, was incurably talkative, especially during breaks. “So, who are the suits?” she asked casually, as she lowered herself to the grass where Regina was sitting.

Regina tried her best to feign disinterest towards the presence of the men. The last thing she needed was for Emma Swan to realize the severity of Regina’s situation. She had no doubt the other woman would capitalize on it. “What makes you think I know?”

“Well, you were here before I was,” she said. “And you don’t seem like the kind of person who wouldn’t question that sort of thing.”

Regina wondered how it was that everything the woman said managed to get under her skin.

“You have no idea what kind of person I am.”

Swan rolled her eyes at that, her annoyance evident. “Could you please just answer the damn question.”

“They’re from the Federation,” Regina said flatly. She supposed if Gold and Jones really intended to follow them to Maine, Swan and the rest of the team would find out about it soon enough. Regina just had to make sure she remained the only player who knew anything about the purpose of their visit.

Emma raised her eyebrows at Regina’s revelation. “What are they doing here?” she asked, and Regina thought she detected the slightest bit of worry in her voice. What Emma Swan could possibly have to worry about from the Federation, Regina had no idea. Swan was probably just paranoid.

Regina simply shrugged in response, hoping that would be the end of Swan’s inquiry.

There was indeed silence for a few blessed moments, before Swan decided to ruin it once again.

“So,” she said. “We’re kinda good at this stuff, huh?”

Regina took a deep, put-upon breath. “We’re professional soccer players, I should hope we would know how to pass a ball.”

“Yeah, but we’re getting especially good at it,” Swan said, seemingly perpetually undeterred. “At least the coaches seem to think it's working, which means we’re probably going to have to keep doing this.”

Not unless Regina was kicked off on her mother’s whim before the next session, she thought grimly. “Is there a point you're trying to make?” Regina snapped.

“My point,” the woman bit out, clearly becoming more annoyed, to Regina’s bitter satisfaction, “Is that if we’re going to spend this much time together, it would be nice if we could be at least a little civil.”

Regina let out a humorless chuckle. “This is me being civil.” Admittedly, Regina was not exactly known for her restraint, but it wasn’t like she was attacking the woman, or insulting her. At least not again. She knew if Marian heard about something like that, Regina would never hear the end of it.

Swan once again rolled her eyes, like the teenager she was at heart, before starting to pull herself up into a standing position. Regina thought she might finally get some peace, before the woman stopped herself, and once again turned to face her. “Look,” she said, her expression determined. “I have no idea what I’ve done to make you so mad, and I don’t know why you decided to go off on me after that game, and honestly, maybe I just shouldn’t care.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Regina said through gritted teeth.

“But we’re still on the same team,” Emma said, ignoring Regina’s comment. “And we’re doing these private session things together, and Ruby and Mulan both seem to believe that you’re a decent human being,” Regina felt a pang of affection at that bit, but made sure to school her expression. “So as much as you dislike me, and as mutual as the feeling is, could we do each other a favor, and like, not do this?”

Regina didn’t know how to respond to Swan’s apparent call for peace. She was an expert at holding grudges, a practice she had developed when grudges were all she had to hold on to, and she had no idea how she was supposed to look at Emma without seeing everything that she could possibly lose.

Emma seemed to take Regina’s silence as a cue to keep talking. “And I’m sorry,” she said. “Not for whatever it is that started this in the first place, because you being an asshole is on you.”

“How civil of you."

“Yeah, well, civil doesn’t mean that I let you treat me like shit,” Emma responded hotly. She took a deep breath before continuing. “But I am sorry,” she said, sounding calmer, “For what I said about your mother.”

Regina felt a flurry of emotions at that, mostly shock. This was truly the last thing she had expected Emma to say, and she had absolutely no idea how to feel about it.

“You’re an amazing player,” Swan continued. “And I’m sorry I implied that you only got here because of your mom. That’s obviously not true.”

Emma looked as though she had said everything she needed to say, and was watching Regina expectantly. Regina really did not know what to make of any of this. Was the woman expecting an apology in return – if so, she shouldn't hold her breath. Regina didn't make a habit of apologizing to people she hated, and she couldn't quite shake the intense feelings of anger that washed over her whenever she looked at the other woman. But on the other hand, as frustrating as it was to admit, Emma Swan was right, and so was Marian for that matter. Fighting with Emma was not going to preserve Regina's spot on the team, and now that there was actually something to be done, perhaps she could focus her energy elsewhere. And the woman had apologized after all – that was something.

She looked back at Swan, but couldn't quite bring herself to say it. The woman had this infuriating way of getting under Regina's skin. Over the last month, Regina had found that no matter how much she hated the her, she could never bring herself to ignore Emma Swan. She was just always there, under the surface.

Swan, for her part, seemed to feel as though she had waited long enough for a response from Regina. "Whatever," she said, once again getting up to a standing position and turning to leave. "At least I tried."

"Wait!" Regina blurted out.

Emma turned back to face her as Regina stood up as well. Based on Swan's surprised expression, Regina had no idea which of them was more shocked at Regina's sudden change of heart. Swan was once again looking at her expectantly, and Regina realized she had no idea what she wanted to say.

"I um," she mumbled, looking around the field. Gold and Jones were sitting too far to hear them, and they weren't even looking in their direction. French had not yet returned from the locker room where she had gone to retrieve her clipboard. She and Emma were alone in the moment, and Regina could say whatever she like. "Thank you for te apology," she began, only to meet a raised eyebrow from Swan. Apparently more needed to be said, but Regina was not, under any circumstances, going to apologize. "I will try to remain civil," she finally continued, and then, because she couldn't help herself, not with Emma Swan staring at her like she was, she added, "As long as you don't give me reason not to be."

Emma's smile grew wide, in that frustratingly beautiful way that Regina couldn't stand. "Well that's a start." She stretched out her hand towards Regina. "To civility?"

Regina considered the woman's hand for a moment, took a deep breath, and shook it. "To civility," she said, not really knowing what to make of the relief, and the other emotion she couldn't quite identify, that she felt when Emma Swan's smile grew impossibly wider.

After the session finally ended, Regina took the opportunity to excuse herself. There was still a good twenty minutes before the rest of the girls showed up, and Regina needed time to think. There were so many feelings she needed to unravel regarding her newfound truce with Emma Swan, which was not even to mention the presence of Gold and Jones, and what it could possibly mean about her future on the team. It was only ten in the morning, and it had already been a very long, strange day. Regina needed some time to process.

The plan was to pick up her things from the locker room and find a quiet place to sit for a few minutes, so that she didn't have to socialize with the other girls when they arrived. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts on the way over, that she only noticed that Gold was standing in the entrance to the locker room right before she moved to enter.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, startled after almost bumping into the man.

Gold chuckled at the reaction, making a show of examining his suit for mud, despite the fact that Regina hadn't even touched him. "Well, you see, Dearie," he said finally. "We didn't get a chance to speak much earlier, and I wanted to greet you properly."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "You wanted to greet me?"

"Why yes," he said, his smile genial, professional, and perpetually off-putting. "It has been a long time, you see, and I thought we should be able to catch up without interruption."

So he wanted to speak with her privately. Regina felt another surge of nervous excitement – if Gold had something to say to her that he couldn't say publicly, or perhaps not in front of Jones, it meant that whatever conflict was going on between him and Cora, it was possible that Gold wanted to include her. There was a chance, Regina thought again, a real chance of preserving her international career, and it was very possible that Gold was about to offer it to her.

"So, go ahead," Regina said, doing her best to contain her emotions in front of a man who could easily prey on them. She looked around, "There's no one here to interrupt us."

Gold's smile grew wider and more unsettling at that. "Aye," he said. "I'll make this quick." Regina's heart was beating faster in anticipation, and she knew that any attempt to hide her excitement in front of Gold was at that point completely undone. He knew that she was hanging on his every word. "I believe you may already have some idea of your precarious position on this team."

"Yes," Regina nodded, trying to ignore the pang of fear she felt at the reminder.

"And I would be correct in assuming that you would rather remain?"

"Of course."

"Well then, I believe I may be in a position to ensure that happens," Gold's look of satisfaction would have been unpleasantly sinister at any other time, but at that moment, Regina was too excited to notice. This was it. This was her chance.

"What would I have to do?" Regina asked. She was not naïve enough to believe this would come without a price, but whatever it was, with everything on the line, Regina was willing to pay it.

Gold's eyes shone in amusement as he spoke. "Eager aren't you?"

"I want to remain on the team," Regina said, leaving no room for argument. "Name your price."

Gold took a long look at her, leaving Regina anxious and desperate for one final moment, before finally answering. "I need you to obtain some information about Emma Swan, information that you are in a unique position of extracting from her. Should you do this for me, I am sure I would be able convince the Federation that your presence on this team is indispensable."

If the offer had come just two hours earlier, Regina would have probably accepted it without question. A way to keep her spot on the team, and potentially get rid of Emma Swan? – it was theoretically perfect. But after Emma's call for a truce, after her apology, it was a little bit harder to hate her. Especially when the person who wanted to possibly harm her was Gold, a man her father had once described as "someone I wouldn't inflict on my worst enemy". And even if Regina was still absolutely sure that Swan was an enemy, she might have hesitated to agree to Gold's offer.

She thought of Marian's words the previous night. She had no doubt her friend would disapprove of Regina making any sort of deal with Gold, much less one that threw a teammate under the bus. But she had also told Regina to fight. She had told her not to give in. And really, even if she agreed to Gold's offer, she wouldn't necessarily do exactly what she was told. Certainly, making an enemy of Gold was a bad idea, but this was a chance to better understand what was going on, as it obviously went beyond just her. She needed to figure out the situation in order to manipulate it to her advantage, and Gold was offering her an opportunity to get close. He was offering her, for the first time in her life, real power over her mother.

And if all that meant that Emma Swan would get caught in the crossfire, well, Regina didn't like the woman. She wouldn't lose any sleep over it. Or at least that's what she kept telling herself, trying to ignore the incessant stabs guilt over what she was about to say next.

"What do you need to know?"

**Author's Note:**

> Would love to know what you guys think.


End file.
